


Thank You, Betty Crocker

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, NSFW Art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is out of town and Dean gets to walk around the bunker naked, because he can.  Cas' arrival makes things a bit hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You, Betty Crocker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alec_MacCready](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alec_MacCready/gifts).



> This started out with a picture of a naked man using a mixer. Allie gave me no choice, I had to do it.
> 
> For those of you who like my stuff, I've created a FB group page. I'll post my stuff there and you can give me prompts. https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/

 

The bunker was quiet. Sam was off on a research mission two towns away and Dean had the place to himself. He jerked off in the shower, because he could. He walked down the hall naked, because he could. He stood at the door to the library and twisted his hips so his cock bounced back and forth, slapping his hips. “Take that, Sam.”

  
He went into Sam’s room and turned on Netflix. He flopped down on his brother’s bed, naked. He watched a movie with The Rock because, let’s face it, the man was hot. When the credits rolled, he picked up Sam’s pillow and rubbed it on his junk. Laughing, he got up and headed to the kitchen. He was hungry.

  
After rummaging through the pantry, he decided on a cake. He could lick the bowl because Sam wasn’t there to tell him he could get some fucked up disease from digesting raw eggs. The big mixing bowl was in the sink from his breakfast earlier that morning, so he had to settle for the smaller one. The batter was close to the rim of the bowl, but Dean didn’t see the problem. He got the handheld mixer out of the cabinet and plugged it in. Batter splattered onto his belly, arms and pubic hair. White spots of the stuff covered his cock. He chuckled. He should take a picture and text it to Sam. “Hey, Sam, my dick broke out in white dots. What do you suppose it is?” Dean cackled as he imagined Sammy’s face.

  
Just as he was pouring the batter into the pan, he heard the distinct sound of Cas’ arrival. Panicking, he lowered the mixing bowl to cover himself. “Cas, buddy…what are you doing here.” He had to act natural.

  
Cas tilted his head, eyeing the bowl curiously. “Hello, Dean.” He took a step closer because the damn angel didn’t understand personal space, even after all these years. Dean took a step back and his bare ass hit the cool counter behind him. “What are you making?”

  
Nothing about Dean being naked and covered in batter, nope, the angel wants to know what Dean is cooking. “Cake.”

  
“You like pie.”

  
“I do like pie. No, I love pie, but a person can like more than one…uhm…thing.”

  
Cas moved closer. Dean watched the angel’s eyes drift up and down his body and he felt warm all over. Lusting after the angel when he was fully clothed was one thing, but naked…God, the mixing bowl wasn’t going to hide a boner. “Cas…yeah…why don’t you…uhm…go…” Dean’s mind drew a complete blank.

  
“Dean, you have something…right…” The angel was inches away from him now. “…there.” Dean closed his eyes as the angel touched his half hard cock.

  
“Cas…” He cleared his throat because that sounded very much like a whine. “Cas…you can’t touch…”

  
Dean forgot the English language when Cas put his finger in his mouth. “Vanilla.”

  
He tried to lift the bowl, turning it so the bottom was facing out. Cas reached out and swiped his fingertip over a blob of batter on Dean’s belly. Dean’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as he watched the angel, his best friend, suck his finger into his mouth. A soft moan escaped and Cas met his eyes. “Are you okay, Dean?”

  
“Ye…no…God.” The bowl clanked to the floor. Dean stared down with morbid fascination. Like he’d never seen his own hard dick before that moment.

  
“Perhaps I should help you clean up.” Cas bent down to pick up the bowl and that put his face at eye level with Dean’s cock. Dean felt time slow down to a crawl. Cas looked at his cock and then his tongue was out and Dean’s legs lost the ability to hold him up as Cas licked at another drop of batter. Cas straightened up, placing the bowl on the counter. He locked eyes with Dean and Dean couldn’t look away if his life depended on it. “Maybe a shower is in order,” Cas whispered.

  
The angel turned around and dropped his freakin’ trenchcoat on the kitchen floor. Still paralyzed with a combination of lust and shock, Dean could only stare. Cas’ tie made it to the doorknob and he disappeared around the corner.

  
“This is a dream…a dream,” Dean mumbled, cupping his balls and closing his eyes. “I fuckin’ love this dream.” He opened his eyes and the trenchcoat was still on the floor. He willed his legs to work. As he turned to look down the hallway, he saw Cas’ suit jacket…then his belt…his shirt… Dean swallowed hard. Cas was probably naked in the shower right now. He had a naked angel in his shower. Dean moved faster. The shower was running and under the spray stood Cas. Naked, in all his glory.

  
One of his eyebrows rose. “Coming?”

  
***

  
Sam let himself into the bunker. It was late and he was tired. All he wanted was a couple of beers and some food. On autopilot, he made his way to the kitchen. He walked to the refrigerator and opened it. He paused, eyes narrowing. Closing the appliance, he turned around. Was that Cas’ trenchcoat? Why was it on the floor? He looked around the kitchen. A dirty mixing bowl sat on the counter and a pan filled with…was that cake batter? “Dean?” Sam called out.

  
He stepped over the coat and then he noticed the tie on the door. In the hallway again, he saw the trail of clothing. How had he missed that? He must really be tired. The clothes led to the door to the shower. Wet footprints left there and stopped at Dean’s bedroom door. “What the…” And then it all came together in his exhausted mind. He grinned. “About damn time,” he mumbled.


End file.
